The One That Got Away
by xXWhoWantsToKnowXx
Summary: Kitty first met Michael when he was a young boy first arriving in the institute. With her unique past, she's the only one he's never been able to kill; but not without a lack of trying. Every year, for the past 12 years, Michael Myers has tried to kill Kitty and continues to fail. She doesn't take being threatened very lightly, and won't go down without a fight.
1. Chapter 1

**I just watched Halloween for the first time in my life, and its apparently my boyfriend's favorite movie series. He has officially made me obsessed and this is just an idea that's been running around my head for a few days, and if I didn't get it out of my system it was gunna keep me awake. Im not expecting this to be a whole story, most likely just 2 or 3 chapters. Stay classy story is based off of the Rob Zombie version.  
**

 **xXxXxXxXx**

I stared around the room of the office. The walls were lined with framed degrees and stupid corny inspirational posters. On the desk sat a pile of manila folders, papers spilling out of them and scattered across the desk. He had one of those mugs that said "world's best dad" sitting on the edge of the desk as well. _Huh…he has kids?_ I never considered such a smart man like Dr. Loomis to have such stupid shit all over his office.

I shifted uncomfortably in the leather chair I was told to sit in. It squeaked annoyingly every time I moved, the metal legs slightly rusted and almost too old to support the chair any longer. I picked up a pencil from the desk and began weaving it between my fingers. I tossed the pencil to the desk just as Dr. Loomis walked into the office.

"Sorry for keeping you waiting…Kitty?" He looked up from the sheet he'd been reading, giving me a strange look before sitting in his chair across from me. I grabbed my waist length ponytail and pulled it over my shoulder before examining my nails.

"Yeah, you said it correctly." Loomis cleared his throat before flipping through some more papers.

"Do you know why I wished to speak with you today?" He sat down in the seat across from me, then proceeded to adjusted the collar of his shirt, looking like he was about to start pouring sweat at any moment.

"Well, I'm assuming it has something to do with Michael escaping, and the fact that I was seeing him every day on a regular basis. Or is that just a hunch?" I shifted again to cross my legs, the chair groaning underneath me the whole time.

"Yes, that's correct. I just find it strange that out of all these papers I've gone over, there's really nothing on your back story. Aside from the fact that you have a degree in specialized mechanics, a pilot's license, your bachelors in cooking, and a whole lot of dead ends that are looking pretty suspicious right about now."

I grabbed a few random curls from my ponytail, stretching them out just to watch them bounce back into place. I looked up at Loomis from underneath my bangs before blowing out a breath of air. "I also do pastry art, in case you were wondering."

He gave me a stern look, slamming the Manilla folder shut.

"Woah! You don't think I had anything to do with his escape, do you?" I gave him an incredulous look, crossing my arms.

"We're keeping all of our options open right now." He really wasn't playing around was he? This whole situation was just getting ridiculous.

"You can see it on the cameras for crying out loud. Those two idiots were messing with a patient, and then just waltzed right into Michael's room. Now they're dead, and now he's gone."

"And how did you learn of this information?" Loomis started to scribble away on a notepad he pulled from a drawer on his desk.

"Because people have been talking about it." He looked shocked for a moment, then scribbled more information onto his little notepad.

No one had actually been talking about it. After I'd arrived to work and learned that Michael had escaped, I'd taken it upon myself to snoop through the computers in the guard's station while everyone was busy. Yes, it was illegal, but illegal was what I did best.

I was, for lack of better words, a secret agent. And it had been a part of my life since I was born. Both of my parents had been agents, meeting on some vacation island while pulling a job. It was love at first crosshairs, if you will. They were each assigned to assassinate the other, but their love, or lust, for one another made it impossible for them to go through with it.

They were both burned shortly after I was conceived, so they shacked up together and raised me. But of course, both organizations feeling duped out of a kill, decided that they would let my parents back in, if they raised me to work as a double agent. My parents agreed, but were terminated when I was 15 for not being "truly invested in the organization".

So, from there I'd gone into hiding, changed my name about a million times, moved to a remote little town where no one knew who I was, and got a job interning at a mental institution until they decided to hire me on at 16. The perfect cover as far as I was concerned. But now this crazed man sitting in front of me, was trying to open doors that he could get shot for just looking at.

"What were you doing before you were hired here. I can see you've been working here for about 16 years. A little after Michael Myers was admitted."

"Well, I was an orphan growing up in Kansas, and when I turned 15 I scraped up some money, hopped on a bus and rode it as far as I could go. They stopped off in this town, and they kicked me off. I've always wanted to help people, so I asked to intern as a nurse for the first job I saw. Of course, they didn't actually hire me on as a nurse until I was 18, but they did give me an assistants job when I turned 16."

Loomis stopped writing for a moment and placed his hands on the desk, fingers folded together.

"Why would this institution give a job to a 16 year old orphan, with a vague back story?"

I shrugged my shoulders, twirling another curl around my fingers.

"Maybe they had no better options? Or maybe I'm just that persuasive. People say I can be quite charming."

"Of course…" He mumbled, before returning to his writing. I rolled my head along my shoulder until I was looking out the window. It was the day before Halloween, and the air was beginning to get colder. I hoped it wouldn't rain, I didn't bring an umbrella, and my new jacket was pure leather.

"Tell me about the first time you met Michael." I rolled my head back over the edge of the chair to stare at the ceiling as I made myself comfortable. It was hard to think back fifteen years, but I guess I had no choice at this point. Loomis seemed dead set on getting inside my brain.

 **xXxXxXxXx**

The first time I met Michael Myers, I was shadowing a nurse overseeing the medications. I had just turned 16, and it was the second day I had been allowed near the patients. I'd seen Michael being escorted to the visiting area, and for a short moment we'd shared eye contact. I was trained to see the subtle changes of people's facial features, and immediately I noticed the minute tick of shock run over his face. Whether it was from seeing someone so young working in an insane asylum, or something else entirely I was never sure.

We were moving through the motions, handing patient after patient a set of pills, and a small Dixie cup of water to wash it all down, when suddenly there was a blaring of alarms above us. Guards started to run around, both to wherever the commotion was happening, and also to contain the now agitated patients around me and the nurse. The guards began pushing the patients against the wall, yelling instructions to stay put. I was pushed behind the nurse I was with, shielded from the situation at hand.

There was loud screaming coming from the visiting area, and suddenly a wailing cry. Two guards ran past the row of patients against the wall, and a few second later I noticed Michael being held, kicking and screaming bloody murder back to his room. I was pushed behind the nurse more, so I wouldn't witness the event, but for a moment I'd made eye contact with the boy a second time.

His eyes had been completely swallowed by his pupils, and he was howling and snarling like a wild animal. I'd run into some pretty fucked up people in my past career, but this boy…his was possibly the scariest soul I'd ever had the pleasure of peering into. And I was 100% interested. When he was gone from the hallway, and the only thing we could hear were quiet screams, all the patients were ordered back to their rooms to calm down.

 **xXxXxXxXx**

"Why would you find that whole situation interesting?" Loomis questioned me, pen at the ready over his trusty notepad.

"Well I don't know. The fact that such a young kid, what was he, 11 at the time? The fact that such a young kid like him had so much death in his eyes. I could see it, even at my age. In the life I grew up with, you had to learn who wanted absolutely nothing to do with you, or you wouldn't survive. And that boy, hated every creature on this earth."

Loomis observed me for a moment, and I could see that he didn't believe that I was just an orphan from Kansas for even a second. But what did I care? I'd never tell him my true back story anyway. I'd only ever told one person in over 15 years, and that man was a complete mute. He wasn't interested in telling anyone my life story anyway.

"Tell me about the first contact you'd shared with Michael." I laughed lowly to myself, tucking a stray curl behind my ear.

"Alright, but don't give me any weird ass looks ok? I have a way of dealing with people, and I wasn't as good about it as I am now."

 **xXxXxXxXx**

It was months after the nurse death incident, and I was officially on meal duty. I was responsible for bringing the meals to the more complacent patients, and was even allowed to follow along to be a backup with the more difficult ones. Michael was always a special case because he was the youngest patient in the building. The staff tried to give him as much supervised stretching time as possible. He took all his meals in a large activity room, and he was allowed to walk around at his will and stretch a little.

Of course, he never did as far as I had heard. He just sat in that metal chair and ate as slowly as possible for the hour and a half that he was allowed in the room. He also had a habit of refusing to eat his food while the staff was watching him. He insisted on wearing his mask, and didn't like people to see his face anymore.

On this particular day, we were a little short staffed, so once I'd finished feeding and taking down notes for my current patients, I was called over the loud speaker and informed that I was needed at the nurse's station. The moment I arrived, one of the head nurses took my shoulders in her firm hands. I looked down at her hands, forcing myself not to instinctively retaliate.

"Alright, listen to me closely. We're going to go feed that Myers kid ok? I want you to stick close to me, and don't make any kind of contact with him. You can talk to him if you want, but don't let him touch you. Don't even turn your back to him unless you're leaving the room. Understood?"

I nodded quickly, setting a serious look on my face so she knew I meant business. The nurses never questioned my quiet steeled personality, assuming that since I was an orphan, it was only natural that I would be hardened to the world. The nurse picked up a tray, and we began walking toward the rec room. There were already 3 guards posted outside the room when we arrived. One of them unlocked the door, giving both of us a sympathetic look.

"Good luck." He said, opening the door.

"Thanks." The nurse beside me replied, before motioning for me to go in front of her. As I stepped into the room, I noticed Michael sitting at the table. His head was down, and he had his hands in his lap tucked between his knees. He had a red Papier Mache mask on, and he didn't even look at us as we walked up to the table.

"Here's your food. Eat quickly, we don't have all day." She put the tray of food down on the table and stepped away. She turned toward me, motioning for us to stand by the door while he ate, but instead I sat at the table across from Michael.

"I'll be fine, I'm just so tired from standing all day. Is it alright If I just rest for a short while?"

The nurse hesitated for a moment, glancing quickly toward Michael before leveling her eyes on me.

"DON'T let him touch you." She whispered, pointing a finger at me, waiting for a nod of my understanding before walking back to the door to talk with one of the guards through the grating where the window would be. I sat at the table, switching between eyeing Michael's plate of food and his masked face. He hadn't even touched his food, simply choosing to eye the plate.

I figured that the rumors were true then. Michael Myers wouldn't eat, unless you looked away long enough for him to take his mask off. I shifted slightly in my seat, bringing one leg over the side of the bench until I was facing the entrance to the rec area. I listened as he lifted his head, staring at me for a moment, before lowering his head to his tray. I stared at the side of the nurse's face, watching as for a small moment both her and the guard lowered their heads to laugh at some joke one of them had said.

That small moment however was all that Michael had needed. My instincts immediately kicked in, and it was as if I was moving in slow motion. I listened as he snatched his fork off the tray with force, intent on shoving the object into the side of my neck. I whipped around to face him, left hand grabbing onto the fork while my right hand slapped against his wrist, forcing him to let go. It was the same principle I would have used while disarming someone with a gun.

I turned my head slowly toward the nurse, seeing that she was still distracted. My hand was still gripped tightly around Michael's wrist, and I could feel him glaring murder into the side of my face. I turned back toward him, slowly releasing his wrist and watching as he shoved it back between his knees with his other hand. The kid was quick, that much I could say…but he wasn't quick enough.

I tucked the fork into the pocket of my nurse outfit before placing my hands on the table, lacing my fingers together calmly. I leveled my eyes on his, watching as his pupils dilated, consuming his entire iris. _Don't show the enemy your emotions, and he'll hold no power over you_.

"You know…if you're going to kill me, you're gunna have to try one hell of a lot harder than that." I whispered, loud enough for him to hear across from me. I tilted my head at him, then leveled my eyes on his tray. "And now you'll just have to eat your food without a fork."

He sat there in silence, staring me down like a lion stares down a zebra waiting for the opportune moment to attack. He shifted in his seat, then leaned forward just the slightest.

"I WILL kill you." He said, before sitting back and continuing to ignore his food. I examined him for a moment longer as I heard the nurse approaching us, also noticing him refusing to touch his food.

"You know what? I hope you do. Don't make empty promises kid." Before I stood up, I gave him a wink, then followed the nurse out the doors.

 **xXxXxXxXx**

"So…you provoked him? Encouraged him to want to kill you?" Loomis looked like he was in the beginnings of wanting to evaluate my own psyche. I shrugged my shoulders, holding my hands up in front of me and began tilting them back and forth in a "So-So" manner.

"Eh…I mean I guess. Technically, I would have been perfectly fine never speaking to the damn kid. HE'S the one who started making threats, and I'm not one to be threatened thank you very much. Not in any way shape or form." I leveled Loomis with a stare, pointing my index finger in his direction.

"Well, what happened after that?"

"That was the last time Michael ever talked to me. To anyone really. But every time we would go into that room to feed him, he'd stare me down. And if looks could kill, believe you me, I'd have been dead 12 years ago." I leaned back in my chair again, lacing my fingers to wrap around my knee.

"Why twelve? You met him 15 years ago."

"Yeah, but before then he was still just a prepubescent kid. Even he knew that, and I'll give it to him he was a pretty smart kid. And he was an even smarter man. He knew he couldn't out strength me, I was 6 years older than him. But then he turned 14." I stopped for dramatic effect, spreading my fingers apart to fake an explosion.

"It was like the kid had a mutant growth spurt, and was replaced with this testosterone filled powerhouse. I always wondered how the hell he stayed in shape so well. He was always either sitting at the table to eat in the rec room, or he was sitting in his room making masks."

"I had noticed. It was subtler for me, because I was seeing him on a regular basis."

"yeah well, the kid was no longer a kid though. And that's when shit really started to get crazy."

Dr. Loomis leaned forward in his seat, pen forgotten for the moment as he was drawn into a retelling of a side of Michael that he never got to see.

"How so?" He said, interest completely focused on me.


	2. Chapter 2

When I had turned 18, I was finally allowed to work solo with patients at the institute. I no longer needed a head nurse to shadow my every move. Also within the same year, the staff decided that I was the one that should be working with Michael. I was the only one that gave him medications, brought him his food, and told him to bathe. Of course, he never listened to me about the last one. I was the only one who wasn't afraid of him, aside from that crazy ass guard who was always talking to Michael.

I was never afraid of Michael Myers, but I was forever wary of him. He was like a feral dog; everything would be fine and dandy until you throw that loop around its neck, and suddenly you're working with an animal straight out of hell. Every day I brought him his meals to the rec room, and every day he'd stare me down, glaring with his dilated pupils, hoping I'd disintegrate into the ground.

He never spoke to me again after his initial threat to kill me when I was 16. He just sat quiet like a stone. But the moment Michael turned 14, it was like his anger for me had amplified with his hormones. He was bigger than me, taller than me and now stronger than me. He knew it, I knew it, and everyone around us knew it. That was the year he started to follow through with his threats.

 **xXxXxXxXx**

I walked into Smith's Grove, shoving at the bottom of my nurse's uniform to avoid flashing anyone as the wind whipped around outside. I always wondered why I bothered wearing the damn outfit anyway. I had stopped wearing the nurses hat about a year ago, and I still got yelled at for it to this day. I walked toward the front gate, showing the guard my worker's card, before listening to the distinct buzzer to open the door.

It was the day before Halloween, and just a few weeks prior we had celebrated Michael's 14th birthday. By celebrated his birthday, I mean we gave him the tiniest piece of cake on the planet with a candle that wasn't lit. And by we, I mean I sat across from him in the recreation room yelling "Happy Fucking Birthday!", throwing party streamers over my own head. Every year he'd ignore the cake, so instead I'd slide it over to my side, pull a fork out of my pocket and eat the slice in 3 bites.

It was the birthday bash of the century. I walked into the break room to put my purse and jacket away, then tied my curly hair up into a bun. The last thing I needed was for some patient to grab my ponytail and pull me down. It's not like I couldn't man handle any one of these bozo's straight into a headlock until a guard came to help me, but as far as these people knew, I was your run of the mill orphan with no self-defense training. I walked out of the break room, and headed toward the nurse's station, grabbing the chart of my patients for today.

Johnathan wouldn't eat this morning, Lester bit one of the nurses, Mary sat and stared at the wall all day, but she did take her medication finally. Michael…made three more masks. Great, that meant I was going to have to talk him into getting rid of three others to make room on his wall today. Highlight of my fucking day. I threw the clipboard down on the desk, then walked over to grab a rolling cart. I stocked it with the evening medications, then headed on my way to make rounds.

By the time my cart was empty, my mood had improved greatly. I didn't know if it was the full moon on this particular Friday, or because the energy was shifting because it was Halloween eve, but all the patients I was assigned to had decided to behave themselves and take their meals and medications with good manners. I hummed a little tune I'd heard on the radio this morning as I walked back to the nurse's station to drop off the rolling cart, before heading to the cook to grab Michael's dinner. Sometimes I wondered why we even bothered trying to feed the damn kid. It wasn't like he really ever ate.

Half the time he just sat there until I turned away so he could slip food under his mask. He stopped taking it off completely to eat when he realized that the guards standing outside could see his face. I stepped into the door way, yelling a greeting to the cook as he finished placing food on the tray for me.

"Hey Dan, how's it going!?"

"Pretty good Kitty! How was your day off?" He said, stirring some gross looking concoction that I was pretty sure was supposed to be meatloaf.

"Eh, it was alright. I couldn't really enjoy it though. The boss kept calling me to come in, given the fact that no one wants to feed Michael. If it was legal to work 7 days a week 24/7, you already know this place would eat me alive."

"That's what you get for being so bold around him. And I heard about your birthday fiasco. Boss didn't like that. Apparently, he's been telling people that Michael could have strangled you with one of those paper party streamers." Dan said, pointing at me in a scolding manner. I laughed, giving him a wave as I headed toward the door with the tray.

"Ok Dan, keep telling yourself that. No wonder you guys are so afraid of him."

The smile didn't drop from my face until I made it all the way to Michael's room, remembering that I'd have to get him to take down a few of his masks. That was a conversation I really didn't wanna have to squeeze out of him. Or grunts and pointed staring on his part. As I walked up to his door, I could see his regular guard on duty, waiting to walk us to Michael's designated eating area.

"Hey Cruz, how's it going? Tough day today?" He turned and smiled at me, having been talking to Michael through the bars on his door window.

"Not too bad. Michael was pretty chill on his walk today. Didn't seem so pent up like usual."

Thank God, I might actually be able to get him to cooperate without much resistance.

"Alright, sounds like good news to me. I do have to get him to give up a few masks today, we have nowhere to put the new ones this time. So, I'm ready when you are."

Cruz turned away from me to place his key in the giant door, then swung it outward allowing me to step inside before him. I placed the tray of food on the bed for the time being, as I walked over to the wall on my right to look at the masks. They were actually really well done, given he only had paper mache and colored markers to work with. As I walked along the wall admiring the masks, one stuck out to me in particular. It was dark and gloomy like the rest of them. It didn't have the makings of horns or reds drawn down the front to signify blood.

This mask was quite simply more feminine than any others he'd ever made. The entire mask was covered in black, but I could see a grayer color over the top of it, and the slightest tint of blue in the very center. There were white dots covering the entire mask, and it made me think of a nebula. He made a galaxy mask. It made me begin to wonder when the last time he'd actually seen the stars was, or if he was simply basing it off of some hidden memory he had from when he was a child.

I turned toward Michael, deciding I'd wasted enough time as it was. I didn't think I could eat the food here, but I at least didn't want his food to go completely cold by the time he actually got to eat it.

"Alright Michael, I heard you made more masks this morning and you wanna put them on your wall."

He stayed silent as always, but he looked up at me from between his hair. He hadn't had a haircut in years, so I could see the point where his hair had started to turn dirty blonde, instead of the golden blonde of his youth. It was beginning to hang down past his shoulders. Dammit, just another thing I was going to have to convince him of later.

"And as you can see…" I paused to spread my arms wide, sweeping them in all directions. "You have no more room." Dropping my arms, I leveled him with a stare.

"Somethings gotta go dude. And I'd rather let you choose than to start grabbing shit off your walls ok? And I know you like your meals pretty warm, so let's make this quick. Pick out three that you don't need on your wall anymore, and I'll hang up the new ones when we get back from dinner." I stepped away from him toward the door entrance, giving him space to stand up and walk around the room.

He was only 14, but he was quickly reaching 6 foot, and if I was being honest with myself, he was kind of built like a pro wrestler. Which didn't make any sense, because I never saw him working out. Maybe I'd have to ask one of the other staff if they ever noticed him doing anything. He stood up, and very quickly snatched three masks off the wall before making his way toward me. He shoved them into my hands before stepping away.

"Alright, I'll take these and throw them out ok? Let's get your chains on and head out to eat."

Before I had time to fully turn away from him, Michael reached out, grabbing a hold of one of the masks in my hand. It stopped me in my tracks, and for a moment I was afraid he was going to try to hurt me again. My adrenaline spiked in anticipation, and I could see from the corner of my eye Cruz stepping forward to intervene. I looked up into Michael's face, but I couldn't read anything in his eyes.

"I gotta throw them away, you don't have room for them anymore." He quickly tugged on the mask I was holding, so I looked down to see which one it was. It was the nebula mask I was admiring when I stepped into the room. I didn't know if he'd handed it to me because I'd been looking at or, or for some other reason that I'd never get out of him.

"You wanna keep this one? I can hang it back up for you."

"I think he wants you to keep it." Cruz said from behind me. Michael stepped back from me, letting the mask go before turning around for Cruz to attach the chains to his arms and legs. No one had ever given me a gift before. At least not since my parents had been killed. As a secret agent, no one babies you, regardless of your age. You don't get gold stars or pats on the back for doing a good job. If they keep giving you missions, and keep you off the black list, that's how you know your superiors are happy with you.

I don't know why Michael would ever feel the need to give me any kind of gift, I was always an ass to him in some type of way. Or maybe it was because aside from Cruz, I was the only other person who went out of my way to talk to him, and (at least try) to get him to open up with no expectations of what it might hold for my career. I felt myself hugging the mask into my body, before giving a nod to Michael as he was turned back around.

I walked over to grab the food tray, before leading the way to the rec room. I could feel some type of skepticism creeping up my spine. It was like the calm before a storm, and I had no idea what was coming. Michael being calmly compliant, my other patients in an almost sedated trance. Even as we walked I could barely hear the incessant moaning or crying of some patient down a hallway. Everyone else may have been fooled, but I'd been in enough bad situation in my life to know when you needed to prepare for shit to hit the fan.

We arrived at the door, and I watched as Cruz walked Michael in and began chaining him to the floor as he sat down. I felt bad for the kid really. 14 years old and he was already considered the biggest threat in this damn place. If only they knew my real back story. I'd probably be chained up in a chair right alongside him. I turned toward the guard outside the door, and handed him the two masks to throw away.

"Here. Throw these two away when you get the chance will you?." He nodded to me as I tucked the third mask into the large pocket of my nurses apron before passing Cruz on his way out.

"I'll be waiting right here for you ok?" I smiled and nodded to him as I heard the door click and lock shut. He was always like a father figure to me, no matter how little I enjoyed his company. I was nice to him on a co-workers perspective, but he wasn't the type of person I would go out of my way to be in the same room as. I walked over to the table, placing the food down in front of Michael, before unwrapping a plastic spoon from its pathetic little package and placing it on the tray for him.

As I walked around the table to take my usual seat across form him, I noticed him pick up the spoon from the corner of my eye. He NEVER touched his food, or even the spoon to eat it with, until I was seated in a position with my side turned to him. I slowed my walk as I reached the other side of the small table. We'd gotten a new setup a few months ago, because the nurses were complaining that it was too difficult to get out of the picnic bench style seat in a hurry if Michael was to try something.

So now he sat at a small table, with his chair cemented to the ground, and the opposite chair able to be moved at will if you were in a hurry. Honestly it just made my life easier. I sat down across from him, scooting my chair in just the slightest as he began scooping food into the little spoon. I was so engrossed in the fact that he was actually about to eat his food in front of me, that I didn't hear the little warning bells blaring in my head. I watched as the spoon dug into the now cooled meat loaf, breaking off a small piece.

He lifted it ever so slowly, whether because I was watching the movement in slow motion, or because he just wanted to make a point of something, until the spoon reached the bottom half of his mask, where his mouth sat. I tilted my head to the side, wondering if he was actually going to lift his mask and let me watch him eat, or if he was going to simply hold the spoon suspended in air until I turned away. He stayed like that for a moment, so I slowly let my eyes lift along his mask, taking in the swirling design and thick lines underneath his eyes.

The moment my eyes made contact with his, the blaring inside my head stopped. He'd been staring at me the entire time, and unbeknownst to me I'd fallen for his ploy, leaning toward him in curiosity. We stayed like that for a moment in silence, both of our breathing seeming to stop completely, before he moved quicker than I'd seen him move in years. There was a snapping sound as he snatched the tray from the table, and I could register a sharp pain in my left hand as the tray came back down against the table held between his hands.

I threw myself backward in the chair, snatching my hands against my chest as my back came crashing to the ground. In one swift movement, I used the momentum to shift onto my shoulder, while my opposite hand braced against the ground, effectively allowing me to spin, kick the tray straight out of his hands, and come gracefully into a kneeled position with one foot braced against the ground in case I had to run. There was a cracking sound like lightening as the tray slapped against the wall to my left, and instantly the guards came rushing into the room.

I stood up and allowed the guard to lead me away and Cruz began preparing Michael to be returned to his room. I could register the guard talking, but all I could see were Michael's eyes behind the holes of his mask, and a memory came flooding back into my mind.

" _You know…if you're going to kill me, you're gunna have to try one hell of a lot harder than that."_

I smirked at him, before I turned to look down at my hand. I hadn't realized I was holding it, but when I registered the angle the tips of my fingers sat at, a searing pain began radiating up my arm. The bastard broke the first joints of my fingers with the tray. I stopped myself from crying out in laughter, afraid that they'd slap me in a straightjacket for a few days, instead opting to call out to him before the door was closed behind me.

"Don't make empty promises kid!"

 **xXxXxXxXxXx**

"I can see here in your file that Michael had fractured the first joint of three of your fingers, and the tip of your pinky finger, correct?"

Loomis was still writing notes down as I sat across from him.

"Isn't that what I just said. The damn kid fucked up my left hand. I couldn't even work with the rowdier patients until practically half a year later. And then my boss was upset with me like it was my fault that the other nurses had to take my regular shifts." I propped my foot up on the edge of his desk, and immediately he leaned forward, pushing it back onto the floor with the end of his pen.

I shrugged my shoulders as he made eye contact with me.

"And yet you STILL continued to goad him with threats for years after the incident." I sat forward, pointing an accusing finger at Dr. Loomis.

"Hey, I never threatened him once. HE threatened ME. I simply told him not to make empty ones. I can hold my own you know." I sat back in my chair to cross my arms, feeling the leather of my jacket constrict the movement.

"Yes. So I've been told."

 **xXxXxXxXxXx**

 **Thanks guys to the few people who've favorited and followed this little story. Hope this was worth the wait, I've just been so busy with life. The next chapter will most likely be the last one. Thank you to the few people who've written a review for my story, I know that the Rob Zombie version isn't most people's favorite, but the actors and the storyline just stuck with me.**


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